


Just One Yesterday

by fletchfeathers



Series: Don't Be Afraid (You're Already Dead) [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Other, i hope this makes like ... any sense lmao, tragic backstory time, well like a teeny tiny part of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fletchfeathers/pseuds/fletchfeathers
Summary: "Will you teach me everything your mother ever taught you as well, Talon?" Tris asks, soft and playful, adjusting the flower crown he's just placed on Talon's head.A thousand feelings flash through Talon in the space of a heartbeat, but there's no explaining them, not right now - not after what Tris has just revealed, at least.He manages, miraculously, to just let a smile flash across his face, burying the onslaught of emotions as quickly as they surface."Depends how much you want to learn about pickpocketing," is what he settles on, and he lets himself sink into the sweet sound of Tris' laughter.It's easier than remembering.





	Just One Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> buckle up kids, we're diving into talon's backstory! this is part one of uhhh however much i can be bothered to write i guess, but i'm not guaranteeing it'll be in any sort of order bc chronology is for nerds.

"Will you teach me everything your mother ever taught you as well, Talon?" Tris asks, soft and playful, adjusting the flower crown he's just placed on Talon's head. 

A thousand feelings flash through Talon in the space of a heartbeat, but there's no explaining them, not right now - not after what Tris has just revealed, at least. 

He manages, miraculously, to just let a smile flash across his face, burying the onslaught of emotions as quickly as they surface.

"Depends how much you want to learn about pickpocketing," is what he settles on, and he lets himself sink into the sweet sound of Tris' laughter.

It's easier than remembering. 

-

"Talon," comes a soft, urgent whisper. "Wake up, honey."

Talon blearily blinks awake; it's still dark outside, but there stands his mother, carrying a small pack. Her nose is bloodied, and she trembles with each step, but her movements are determined as she steps aside to let Talon get out of bed.

"What's going on?" he asks, but his mother shushes him quickly, glancing furtively around the dark, empty room as though expecting something to emerge from the shadows. 

"We're leaving, baby," she replies. "We're leaving this awful place and we're never coming back." 

"Where are we going?" 

"I don't know yet," she says, "but we need to hurry, before your father wakes up."

The words send an icy bolt through Talon - the last thing he wants is his father to know he was out of bed this late, even with his mother. Almost on cue, the bruises across his back, the ones from his father's belt, throb with a fresh ache. 

(It's not the worst beating he's ever had. Still, it hurts.)

"I need you to be as fast as you possibly can, Talon," she says, cupping his face in one hand and sweeping a few strands of dark hair from his eyes. "We have a long way to go tonight, and we can't stop, not even for a moment. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"

He hesitates, just for a moment, but then he nods, steeling himself against the dull pain. 

"Okay, mama," he says. His mother smiles, drops a kiss to his forehead, and takes his hands in hers, leading him out of the room.

"Once we get out of here," she whispers, "I promise you, baby, no-one will ever hurt us again."

-

The journey is longer than any Talon has ever taken on foot; his mother had briefly stopped at the stable, considered taking a horse, but realised it would be too difficult to sneak past the guards at the gate. 

They run together for what feels like hours, and when they finally stop in a disused barn Talon's feet are burning, his legs trembling from the recent exertion. His mother helps him undo his boots, and sees his feet are raw with fresh blisters.

"Oh, baby," she soothes, pulling Talon into her lap. He curls up there, sleep already starting to cling to his eyelids.

Before he drifts off, he sees the horizon across the seemingly endless fields starting to turn heather-grey with the sunrise - and he remembers, just as he sinks under, that today is his tenth birthday.

-

It's another few days before they finally make it into the city, and his mother starts to show him the art of dissolving into the crowd, blending seamlessly amongst the packs of townsfolk rushing back and forth to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Talon loves it, drinking in the newfound knowledge; but after the first few days become a week, and the weeks dissolve into months and into stretches of time that Talon soon loses track of, the excitement gives way to necessity.

They spend the first week or two in tavern beds, but they don't often have enough to spare for a meal, too.

And then the money runs out, and their nights are spent huddled for warmth in dark doorways, in alleyways, anywhere they can find a moment's shelter from the bitter winter cold.

It's not long before his mother gets sick.

She was already drawing into herself, barely speaking, moving like a ghost with Talon from place to place. She does all she can, keeping Talon fed with what little they can sometimes afford - but Talon can see how quickly her face becomes drawn and gaunt, how her bright eyes become dull and pained, how her soft skin starts to spike with her jutting bones. 

When she starts to cough, it takes too long for her to be able to stop. Talon is kept awake at night by the rattling of her chest, but he pretends to be asleep all the same because he just - he has to. He has to be good for her. He has to help.

She tells him he loves him, tells him she's sorry, and that it's going to be okay. Talon can't get scared, won't let himself for her sake, and she tells him he's so good, so brave. He doesn't believe it. 

Still, he buries his fear and takes coin from wherever he can, getting quicker and quieter with each pocket he picks and each piece of food he steals, blending into the darkest crevasses of the city streets like a tiny shadow. He learns, he listens, he does everything he can because he has to make her better. He has to.

But it's not enough.

He wakes up one morning, and she doesn't. 

And when he's older, when he realises what his father did to her - to both of them - and why this had to happen, the anger embeds itself in him so deeply he feels it burning in his blood, devotes every fibre of his being to one day making the sick bastard suffer like he made them suffer.

But right now, in this moment, he's ten years old and his mother is gone. And Talon is utterly, devastatingly helpless.


End file.
